Working on change ... at 42

Tuesday

Nov 5, 2013 at 2:02 PM

It wasn't until I was in my mid-20s when I was given the chance for a little over a year to work for the same company as my dad that I ever saw the side of him that burned with dedication and hard work.

Michael Jones mjones@stuttgartdailyleader.com

When I was growing up my mother managed to not only work ridiculous hours as a nurse — 12 hour shifts five days a week — but cleaned, cooked, paid bills, took care of me and still found time to visit family and lend them a helping hand if needed. From the earliest time I could remember my father worked insane hours in the oilfield industry — both on land and offshore as the situations required — often for weeks if not months at a time of 12 to 16 hour days with no days off until the job was completed. When he came home he would sit in his recliner and watch television as my mother did housework.

It wasn't until I was in my mid-20s when I was given the chance for a little over a year to work for the same company as my dad that I ever saw the side of him that burned with dedication and hard work. All I saw was him at home before that, letting mom do everything.

Guess which side my own lazy habits tend to fall on?

While I work and put nearly all of my energy into my job — perhaps, like my father at the expense of anything else at times — what I want to do when I get home is to just sit in my chair and relax. I don't want to do or think about doing anything. At all.

My wife, on the other hand, after destroying her work day spent pounding knowledge into her students’ minds, will come home and dive into laundry or dishes or some other tasks that have to get done.

Thank God for her.

I know I have it in me to clean and do chores as my wife will tell you — when she's not home for a day or more whether visiting her mother or off to some conference — I burn my nervousness off by cleaning like a madman. When we first got together I think that amused her while also making her wonder what was wrong with me, lol.

As I've gotten older, however, it seems as if my mental image of my father has settled itself into my bones. I do not hate cleaning but it is as if my body purposefully runs out of energy and determination specifically when there is cleaning to do.

Got hours and hours of work at the paper for me? I'm on it! Need me to come in on a Sunday? I'm there. Need me to scrub the toilet?

I'm exhausted!

I'm not proud of this, mind you. This isn't a moment where I wanted to write about this so that all of the lazy people out there would cheer me on and choose me as their rightful leader. No... They'd be too lazy to do that, anyways.

Instead I'm wondering how this happened to me? How have I allowed myself to become the mental image I had of my father when I was seven? Well, the mental image of him in this one way I mean. My father also seemed unafraid of anything and presumably breathed fire and could do no wrong.

I've not emulated that as I am afraid of everything including fire and can do no right...but I've got that sitting and watching television thing down pat.

Perhaps the writing of this will be a starting point for me to try — and keep in mind I did say try — to change this part of myself. At 42 I'm not going to be making a great many things different about who I am and how I look or think, but maybe there is a slight chance I can concentrate on my mom and emulate some of her as well and change how I act.

I'm sure my wife will let you all know how spectacularly I flame out and fail at it, or rather she would, if she weren't busy cleaning up the mess I'll no doubt make while cleaning.Forgive me dear. I'm Cajun...

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